


Quickie

by punk_rock_yuppie



Series: 30 Days of Smut [1]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: 30 Days of Smut Challenge, Fluffy, M/M, Public Sex, Quickie, Silly, handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-16
Updated: 2016-05-16
Packaged: 2018-06-08 18:54:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6869281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punk_rock_yuppie/pseuds/punk_rock_yuppie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“After this,” Hartley murmurs, eyes downcast and trained on the bulge in Cisco’s pants, “you are going to <i>sit still</i> and <i>be quiet</i> until we leave.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Quickie

**Author's Note:**

> decided to find a 30 day smut challenge to keep around for when im bored and need inspiration. here's prompt 13, quickie! not beta'd, enjoy!!

Cisco gasps sharply as he collides with the edge of the desk, the sleek wood digging into the small of his back. His hands reach to grip the edges until his knuckles are white and he can’t decide whether he wants to lean in or away from Hartley’s touch. Cisco’s mind feels foggy—has all day, honestly, something about his dreams the night prior and waking up late this morning had left him in a funk all day—and Hartley’s touch roaming his skin distracts Cisco even more.

“After this,” Hartley murmurs, eyes downcast and trained on the bulge in Cisco’s pants, “you are going to _sit still_ and _be quiet_ until we leave.” Hartley looks up as he hands drop to the buckle of Cisco’s belt. Apparently, what Cisco had thought was minor ministrations and fidgeting had been a lot more irritating than he realized.

“Understood?” There’s a hitch in Hartley’s voice that gives away his own arousal, as does the flush of his cheeks and the slight askew tilt of his glasses. Beneath all that is a quietly lingering irritation, mingling with stress of pressing projects and fast oncoming exhaustion. Cisco wants to sooth away the crease of Hartley’s eyebrows, wants to reassure him and take away the stress weighing Hartley down.

_“Cisco, are you listening?”_ Hartley hisses in Spanish when Cisco takes too long to respond.

Cisco nods jerkily, muttering _“_ _yes_ _,_ _yes_ _,”_ under his breath until Hartley’s hands start to move again. Cisco settles against the desk as comfortably as he can and spreads his legs invitingly. He relishes the breathy sigh he gets in response, and idly wonders if he could convince Hartley to call it a night early, so that they can go home and _really_ enjoy each other’s company.

Before Cisco can ask, though, his belt is hitting the floor and his pants are sagging around his knees and Hartley’s hand is curling around his cock and stroking insistently. Cisco shudders and rolls his hips into the slick, warm grasp. He tips his head back and lets out a guttural moan at Hartley’s touch; at the way Hartley knows every trick to drive Cisco crazy.

“H-Hart, c’mon,” Cisco groans. He reaches out one hand and latches onto the back of Hartley’s neck, hauling him those few inches closer. “C’mere,” Cisco insists and lets out a pleased mewl when Hartley obeys. He cranes his neck to meet Hartley in a messy and rushed kiss; he laps at Hartley’s lips until they open and then sets about tasting every inch of Hartley’s mouth. He swallows Hartley’s answering moans and returns them with whimpers and groans of his own.

When they finally pull back, Cisco lets his eyes drop to where Hartley is still stroking Cisco off, expertly, quickly, lewdly. They’re in the middle of their office, and sure it’s more out of the way that other rooms at S.T.A.R. Labs, but that doesn’t mean they’re totally safe from someone walking in on them.

And okay, Cisco can admit that’s part of the thrill. They’re supposed to be working, they’re in a fairly public space, they _shouldn’t_ be doing this, not here and now. But, they are, privacy and caring be damned.

“Cisco, still with me?” Hartley asks as he nuzzles at the stubble prickling along Cisco’s jaw. “Will you come for me, Cisco?” Hartley’s whisper ghosts along Cisco’s skin and a flush rises in its wake. Cisco tilts his head to the side to give Hartley better access to his neck and is rewarded with a series of hickeys being sucked into his skin. “You never answered me,” Hartley murmurs against Cisco’s hammering pulse.

“Yes, _yes_ , Hart, I will—I’ll come for you, _fuck_.” Cisco’s hips are in a wild and uneven rhythm now, overcome with desperation and burning desire. He thrusts into Hartley’s grip as heat pools in his gut; his balls draw tight and his whole body goes rigid as he comes in spurts across Hartley’s wrist. Cisco’s toes curl as the aftershocks of his orgasm rumble through his body until finally the pleasure starts to fade and his mind clears for the first time all day.

When he comes down from the high, Hartley looks tired but smug as hell. “Better?” He asks as he pulls his hand back and reaches for a nearby hand towel. It’s one already littered with splotches of coffee and grease, and now Cisco’s come.

Cisco glares as harshly as he can—not an easy feat when he feels pleasantly loose-limbed in the aftermath of his orgasm, nor when his softening cock is still hanging over the waistband of his boxers. He gives up when Hartley’s smug expression twists into one of amusement. Cisco sticks his tongue out like a petulant child before adjusting his boxers and jeans so that he’s no longer exposed.

He steps away from the desk and cups Hartley’s face. He kisses Hartley sound on the lips, a soft pressure with the promise of more for when they finally go home. Cisco pulls back with a grin and presses a kiss to the corner of Hartley’s mouth like an afterthought, one he just can’t resist.

“Better?” Hartley asks again, just to be a dick.

Cisco has an equally witty quip on the tip of his tongue when it hits him—suddenly, the lack of inspiration that’s been messing with him all day lifts and in an instant, Cisco knows exactly what he needs to finish his current project. He feels his eyes widen and can’t even bring himself to be irritated with Hartley’s delighted, mocking laughter.

Instead, Cisco leans in again and kisses Hartley, murmurs _“thank you,”_ before darting out of the room to gather the tools he needs.


End file.
